


Up Against the Wall

by CoconutRum



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Body Play, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum
Summary: Title says it all. Jack and Will fight in a bar. Jack follows Will into an alley. Wall sex! Nuf said.
Relationships: Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Comments: 4
Kudos: 149





	Up Against the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of POTC. All characters are of age and everything is consensual.

“Another two pints over here, love.” Jack gave the wench a light slap on the ass; she pranced away, shooting him a wink.

Will drained his pilsner, setting it down roughly. 

“Why do you treat them like that?” He asked Jack, irritated. 

Sparrow gave him his best puppy-dog eyes, “Like what, darlin’ ? She liked it! Didn’t ye see her smug little face...not to mention that arse…” He gave a little growl, looking around for their server. “How I’d love to just lift that skirt up and…”

“JACK…” Will slammed his fist onto the table, clearly frustrated. “Honestly, can’t we just discuss our next arrangement...without you having to be dog about every woman you want to…”

Jack coughed into his mug, “William!” He leaned across the table, giving the blacksmith’s shirt collar a playful tug. “What’s got your knickers in such a twist, eh?” He leaned back, leisurely spreading his arms out, gesturing around the room.

“What more could you want, lad? We’ve got drink, food,” The wench returned with their drinks, teasingly sticking her bum out towards Jack as she set down their mugs. 

“...Pleasurable company…” Jack continued, fiddling with her skirt. The girl giggled, leaned down, (her ample breasts up against Jack’s face), and planted a kiss on his head. Sparrow’s pupils were black with lust. After letting him gaze a moment longer, she whispered something in his ear, stood back up, and returned to work, an extra sway in her hips. 

Sparrow’s tongue was nearly unfurling to the floor as he watched her walk away. Will, having had more than enough of Jack’s pathetically irritating behavior, sat, sulking. Jack turned back to face him, googly eyed and practically drooling, his mind completely elsewhere. 

“Honestly, Jack. I can’t do this right now.” Will pushed his chair away from the table, standing. “We need a crew. We need sails repaired, and our reputation isn’t exactly what you’d call sparkling now, is it?” He stared down at Jack, eyes begging him to see reason. Jack simply grinned, and took a deep pull from his drink.

“William, that stick is so far up your arse, I wonder how you get through the day without someone trying to take advantage of your lovely self. I know I would…” It was Jack’s turn to wink. 

“This isn’t about that, Jack!” Will pulled Jack’s drink out of his hand, earning him a murderous look from the Captain. “If you didn’t act as though you were about to go off and fuck every wench, barmaid, and….” Will waved his arms in exasperation, looking for words, “ and stable boy…” He collected himself after that last one, ‘’Maybe, we wouldn’t keep finding ourselves in this mess. Maybe, if you had a shred of sense and acted as the CAPTAIN you so adamantly claim to be, we wouldn’t be scrapped every month, or leaving port on a dangerous vessel.” Will was trying to keep his volume low, but found himself getting even more flustered. People around the tavern were beginning to stare.

Jack sat there, waiting for Will to get off his soap box. When Will (*finally) finished his monologuing, he took the opportunity to speak. 

“William, “ He drawled, “Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?” There was a glint of chaos in his eyes as he slowly rose from his seat, eye to eye with the blacksmith. He glanced at the barmaid, licking his lips, noticing Will’s mouth quiver as he did so. 

“What is this *really* about, love?” 

Will didn’t bother to grace him with an answer. He merely drained his glass, and stormed out the door. Jack gave the barmaid a smouldering grin, before tailing the blacksmith into the night.

Jack followed Will for a few blocks, down the lamp lit streets; past taverns, book binding shops and even a brothel or two. (Jack definitely paused to consider the latter.) Fast on Turner’s heels, he followed him into an alleyway that cut across to the port where they’d docked earlier that night. A stray cat darted past Jack, startling him. Will stopped and turned, hearing Jack’s gasp. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing? Don’t you have a wench to fu…”

“Don’t take that tone with me boy,” Jack approached him, blocking him into a corner, “You’ve got some nerve pulling what you did in there.” His voice was dangerously low as he continued advancing towards Will. The blacksmith stared him down, slowly backing away, bristling.

“Jack, I told you, “ he was biting back words, “Why don’t you just go back to your bar maids and stable boys? If you were half the Captain you say you are…”

Jack lunged, grabbed Turner by the shirt, and slammed his back up against a wall. Eyes wide, his voice more of a snarl. 

“You want to choose your next words *very* carefully, Turner....” Jack tightened his grip, pressing Will against the cold, damp stone,

Will’s heart was racing as he panted in Jack’s grasp. He glared at coal rimmed eyes, defiant and threatening. His own words, a hoarse whisper.

“You’re washed up, Jack.” Sparrow’s breath was hot on his face. “You’re nothing but a lazy, drunken, horny *child* who has no regard for anyone but himse…”  
Jack hurled Will around, pinning his chest against the wall, threatening to grind his cheekbone to dust. He languidly removed his belt, using it to bind Turner’s wrists behind him.

The blacksmith stood, calculating the odds of throwing Jack off. Not good.  
Jack kicked Will’s legs apart, and plastered himself against the boy. 

“If I didn’t know any better, “ Jack grabbed a handful of Will’s ass, “I’d say you were…” He ran a hand between Will’s legs, cupping his balls. “...Jealous?” He sucked Turner’s earlobe into his mouth.

Will groaned, arching his neck back.  
“Me? Jealous?” Will tilted his head, giving Jack better access. “You clearly wanted that barmaid....”

Jack sucked at his jaw, pulling a sigh from the man, then bit down *hard* at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Will whimpered, his knees buckling.

“So what do you want, Will?” He pressed his fingertips to the blacksmith’s taint, probing through his pants. The man flinched, then bared down, mewling. 

“Are you saying, “ Jack pulled down Turner’s breaches, “You need me to prove, “ He massaged a cheek before licking his palm, “That you...are *mine*?” 

SMACK! He landed a blow across Will’s ass, to emphasize his point.  
Turner gasped, and reflexively bucked his hips, rising up on the balls of his feet. He settled, coming back down, waiting silently.

SLAP! Another pelt across his cheeks, making Turner groan.

“Well, lad?…” Jack pulled at Will’s hair, yanking his head back. “Do you need...convincing?”

Will pushed his ass out in invitation, his bound hands reaching back, nearly level with Jack’s own cock.

“Oh, no one likes a cheater, love…” Jack unbound Will’s hands, and placed them against the wall, his elbows bent. “Stay….”

Jack folded his belt in his hand, assessing. 

Will stood stock still. His cock pulsing with need, breath coming in short bursts, visible in the chilled air. A mist of rain slicked the lamp posts, forming halos around their lights, casting an eerie glow. Will stayed, motionless, seconds ticking by like hours.

“If you insist, darlin’ “ Leather struck Will’s skin, the piercing sound echoing in the cold night. Will hunched forward, savoring the sting. 

Another lash came down hard across his shoulder this time; his cheeks clenched as he arched away, grinding his dick on the alley-way wall. A third, forth, and fifth whip came down in succession against his ass. His dick positively raging, Will rubbed himself against the cool, rough surface, nearly getting into a rhythm when…

“Ah ah ah, lad,” Jack pulled Turner’s pelvis back from the wall, his fingers venturing to Will’s fly. He pulled it down, setting free the aching cock, taking it in hand. With only three of four strokes, the blacksmith was mewling, and writhing beneath him, his moans growing louder.

“Now now, dear boy, can’t have that mouth drawing attention to us, eh?” Jack unfurled his belt, which was now sodden with rainwater, and held it to Will’s lips.

“Open…” Will obeyed. Jack placed the strip of leather into his mouth, the two ends dangling against Will’s chest, the buckle clinking on the wall.

“Bite…” Will’s hair was plastered to his face, water coursing through the strands, down his cheeks and down the belt. 

“Now, isn’t *that* a pretty sight?”  
Jack was smitten. Turner stood, ass glowing; heat rising off of it from the lashing, arms raised in submissive posture against the wall, and mouth clasping his belt, like a dog holding a leash. The Captain felt his own cock stirring.

He licked a finger and placed it at Will’s entrance, probing gently. He saw Will trembling, rain water pooling on his now glossy skin. 

“Easy, lad. Don’t want the fun to end too soon, savvy?” He coaxed, sliding the digit further, past the first ring of muscle. Turner pressed back with a growl. Jack obliged the enthusiasm with a second finger, earning a full body convulsion from his pet. He began pumping, slowly, while his other hand stroked his own cock to hardness. 

Will’s hips were rocking, seeking friction. His eyes glued shut for the rain. Breathing through his nose, he tasted a hint of sweat on the leather between his teeth. 

Sparrow removed his fingers, and licked his other palm, taking himself in hand. The sight of William, crossed with the boy’s inherent jealousy; not to mention the brilliance he felt at being in a bloody alley-way with what felt like a two penny whore (HIS two penny whore) Jack was losing control of his primary motor functions. He continued stroking, the rain coming down harder, his clothes clinging to his skin.

“So you’re jealous of my lusting after salty wenches?” He was fully hard now.  
“Or of my flirtations with the stable boys?” He lined himself up with Will’s hole.  
“Well love, clearly you haven’t been paying attention…” He pressed the purple head of his cock into Turner’s core. Both men stilled, ragged breaths forming clouds of silver haze in the air. 

“That’s all they were…” Jack choked out, with effort, sinking deeper, “Flirtations. But clearly, you need a reminder that you…” Will cried out as Jack fully pierced his flesh, his voice muffled by the leather and brass clenched in his jaws. Jack pulled nearly all the way out. 

“Belong…” He thrust deep, and just as relentlessly retracted himself again.  
“To me! “ Jack’s voice was savage, as he snapped his hips repeatedly, pistoning himself through Will’s body. 

The blacksmith tried not to howl as his body had barely adjusted to the burning sensation at his center. Fire flew through every nerve ending, his body vibrating and quivering with need. His legs began to shake, his cock leaking painfully. Will let go a soft moan at his neglect, pressing back to meet Jack’s every stroke.

“You see, William….” Jack pounded, inhaling the mist enveloping their bodies. “THIS is your place.” He reached to Will’s cock and stroked it slowly. Will was having trouble standing; he hunched forward, pressing further back into Jack, his hands still against the wall. 

“This has always been, and always will be your place.” He fisted Will faster, pumping steadily now. 

He bowed forward, his chest pressed to Will’s back as his hips thrust, unyieldingly; one hand still pumping Will’s dick, the other wrapped around his torso. He licked and nipped at Turner’s neck and shoulder, leaving purpling bruises blooming on his skin. Will was practically sobbing. 

“You’re mine, William…” Jack groaned, shooting himself into Will’s body, as spasm overtook him. Will followed in the last of Jack’s strokes. They were soaked to the bone in sweat and rain water, steam rising off their frames. 

Panting, they did up their clothes. Will, shaking, turned to face Jack.

“Thirsty?” He grinned. Jack winked, as they headed back to the tavern. 

“It's too easy to get you revved, up, mate,” Jack chided. 

“Says the man who falls prey to a bar maid’s skirt,” Will chipped in.

“Worked like a charm, love.” Jack’ eyes glittered. Turner paused, studying him.

“You’d planned this from the beginning?” He asked. Jack gave a bow and kept walking.

“Had to provoke you somehow, lad!” Jack smacked Will’s ass, making him yelp - still sore from the belt. Turner rolled his eyes, as they went back to their seats. The barmaid (eagerly) came to check on them, asking if they were alright. 

After ordering another round, Will fidgeting in his chair, he simply gazed at Jack.  
“You’re mad…” He said, rubbing his jaw.

Jack, downed his drink...looking Will square in the eye.

“And you... love it.”


End file.
